As always, Niefuzan is trailed by a harem of lesser mó: newly formed creatures with insatiable hunger and only basic needs, there to serve him as he wills. One of them sniffs the air in my direction, catching the scent of my mortal blood.
My vision in the dark is better than a regular mortal’s but weak compared to a purebred mó’s. I catch only the flash of red eyes, a flick of a tongue, a glimmer of saliva.
Danger tightens a noose around my neck. I press a hand over my left wrist, where one of these newborn specimens attackedme just the other day. The wound is gone, but I can still feel her tongue tracing over my skin as she drank my blood, hear her high-pitched laughter as I struggled against her.
“Niefuzan.” I twirl my fingers, and red scorpion lilies bloom on the walls as my magic fills the chamber. A teapot appears in my hands—but it’s not tea inside.
I take a swig, smacking my lips as the plum blossom liquor drips down my chin. Instantly, my stomach burns, but the tension in my chest uncoils slightly.
I fix Niefuzan with an indolent grin. “To what do I owe this…pleasure?”
The general chuckles. His voice is deep, rough, matching his considerable bulk. Like his dead halfling son, there is nothing he loves more than playing with his food. “Someone has been hiding secrets.”
“Oh? Do enlighten me.”
Niefuzan’s smile widens. With a flick of his hand, the doors slam shut; I hear the snap of a bolt lock sliding into place.
Dull dread blooms in my stomach. My expression schooled to reveal nothing, I smile back at him.
“Go on, my lovelies,” Niefuzan croons to his companions. “You must be hungry.”
I’ve been expecting this.
My teapot catches the first one squarely in the face. The mó reels back with a shriek, but I follow; my sword plunges through her chest, and she dissipates in a puff of smoke. Another slice, and a second staggers back. I whirl as a third springs at me from behind, impaling it on my blade, but the fourth I only manage to catch by its thigh. Then a fifth slams into my back and a sixth grabs my ankles. The world tilts sharply, and my head cracks against the floor.
I’m dazed, unable to move or breathe for several heartbeats. But I’m acutely aware of the red eyes watching me in the dark, of the creatures emerging from the shadows as they crawl toward me.
I twist and aim for one with my sword, but it’s knocked from my hand; with my other, I unleash the magic I’ve been gathering in my palm. Ribbons of red unfurl from my fingers, shifting into twisted crimson petals of my scorpion lilies, their petals razor-sharp. I shoot them toward these creatures’ chests, aiming for their cores—for the killing blow.
Except they have their own magic, and it’s stronger than mine.
My scorpion lilies dissolve into shadows and dust. And then it’s all that I can do not to scream as the creatures plunge their teeth into my flesh, as my blood pools on the marble beneathme.
I fall very still. It hurts more when I struggle. A sound escapes my throat—ragged, animalistic even to my own ears—but I refuse to look away from Niefuzan.
I refuse to stop grinning at him even as his lowest mó feed on me.
He watches with a sick gleam in his eyes. He knows I can’t and won’t say anything to anyone; the guards standing watch outside my doors know this, too. I have no allies in the Council of the Kingdom of Night. Growing up, the mó at court tolerated me as a tool to take the mortal throne.
Now I am denigrated and disdained as the traitor son, fallen out of favor with their empress. The halfling who gave in to his weak mortal instincts and betrayed his kingdom—all for a girl.
Though I’m kept alive as the Kingdom of Night’s way totake the mortal throne, a few, like Niefuzan, have grown bolder in their mockery of me.
My smile slips for a moment as one of his mó’s teeth scrapes against my bone.
I won’t beg. They could drink me dry, and I’d never beg for my life.
Except they can’t kill me, and that’s the worst part—they can’t kill me, because my magic will continue trying to knit my flesh together and pump blood through my heart, my human heart.
And they can’t kill me because I am heir to the Kingdom of Rivers. Without me, the Kingdom of Night loses its grasp on the mortal realm.
Niefuzan chortles. “Ah, always so proud, weren’t you, halfling? Even as nothing more than a feeding bag and a body to warm the mortal throne, you’ve looked down on us, haven’tyou?”
I want to respond, but I can’t think of any of the clever retorts I prepared. Can’t think of anything beyond the pain. By my ear, one of the creatures moans in drunken ecstasy over my flesh and blood.
Niefuzan watches me for several moments more. Then he leans back, disappointed at my lack of reaction. “You’re a stubborn one, I’ll give you that,” he says. “Well. As much as I enjoy watching you being put in your place, halfling, I didn’t come just for this.
“The empress is back. She’s called for the council to assemble—and for you to appear as our special guest.” He claps his hands. The newborns tear their teeth from me to look to their master, and I fight against the black spots filling my vision. “Come, lovelies. The empress has requested his appearance in an hour, so we can’t drain himcompletely.”
